AMONGST THE CRUMBS

We were doing a mini re-organisation at home this week. Not having done that sort of thing for a long time,  it felt like a large upheaval; it was physically demanding. With a certain amount of  ingenuity, a heavy bedspread and a home-made small platform with wheels, one awkward piece of furniture arrived in its new position in one piece and best of all, there were no bumps, knocks, nor any minor injuries.

I had a mental picture how things were going to look when I finished reorganising. But like the proverbial 'best laid plans of mice and men....' at bed time I was still deciding whether or not the radio should sit on the shelf where it had sat before.  I unplugged it a few times to site it in one or two other places. It finally rested where it sat best, where I  had originally put it! Isn't that always the way. The plant is sitting pretty, in full daylight instead of reaching out to find it. It looked happy, it looked good; it can stay where it is.

A quick tidy to finish things off was on the agenda this morning. Q u i c k...I should have known better. Three little shelves, (they really are little) produced a surprising amount of dust and a treasure trove of  about twenty years of memories.  There's no swift way to sort, or, decide what to discard, with all that emotional attachment. 

Amongst the crumbs of years past, I found a gift card and written on it in a child's script was this:

Looking at this card gave me warm feelings.  It must have happened at the time of a school music festival, but when; worse still, who was Helen?  It is very disconcerting.

THE UNEXPECTED

Being shut out of my blog site recently threw up  some unexpected feelings.  See here: http://myword1.blogspot.co.uk/2012/11/getting-locked-out-of-my-blogsite-me.html   

Someone suggested that it must be interesting being a visitor to your own blog site, it giving another perspective on what [I] do and see. 

Well, no, being locked out of my site did not give me another perspective on what I produce and publish on my blog.  I believe it did not do that because I was, and I am, already very familiar  and closely linked with all of it.  It was not like visiting someone else's site, where I would be seeing different perspectives,  reading something new, meeting up with a different writing style, or, mulling over other and possibly new and refreshing ideas.  


Not being able to fully access my blog site was frustrating.  I  was on the outside looking in. The nearest analogy would be, being shut out of my own house.  Something or someone had a power to do that and I was almost powerless to do anything other than look in through the glass window.  It was  very uncomfortable.  My discomfort, doubtlessly prompted my inner drives to resolve it.

I was also prompted to think about the very many displaced and dispossessed people we hear about, as well as those we are not told much about. The majority have fled to find relative safety; recent history  is full of brutal examples of sequestrating people's homes, taking their livelihoods and their lives.  By comparison, my little cyber experience rates as nothing, and yet,  the event itself, raised my emotional awareness of a particular kind of loss.  It was not a comfortable place to be in.  It will be unimaginably uncomfortable for those who are living the full blast of it right now.